


sore

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bottom!Eames, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur takes good care of Eames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sore

**Author's Note:**

> Just some off-the-cuff Saturday afternoon fluff-smut.

I am a lucky man, Arthur muttered as he watched Eames bounce on his cock, facing away from him so that Arthur could get a good view of his glorious ass.

What was that, love? Eames panted.

Was just saying I’m lucky.

Oh yes, and don’t you forget it, Eames said with a breathless laugh, rolling his hips.

Never, Arthur declared, giving his cheek a sound smack. He was leaning back on his elbows, legs hanging off either side of a corner of the bed, Eames bent over him with his hands at the bed’s corner. Arthur couldn’t remember exactly whose idea this position was, but whoever it had been, he was a genius.

Eames straightened up, and Arthur groaned at the shift in position, reaching to run his hands down Eames’ muscular back, then down to his ass again, squeezing it. Now it was Eames’ turn to groan. Arthur dug his fingers in, helping to direct Eames’ movements, thrusting up into him actively now. This seemed to set Eames off, judging by how he panted and squirmed, still doing his best to work Arthur’s cock, to show off. 

Fuck yes, Eames, you have the most… perfect ass, Arthur panted. He squeezed harder, fucked Eames faster. Eames ground down on him.

Arthur came deep in his ass, arching up off the bed, dimly aware that Eames had a hand around his cock and was frantically stroking it, coming with a groan and his head tilted back. Arthur ran a hand soothingly down his sweat-soaked skin.

\-------

The next morning, Eames was out of bed and in the shower by the time Arthur woke up, which was definitely unusual. He must have gotten up really quietly -- or Arthur was just that worn out. Maybe both. He was definitely a little sore in the hips, and they’d definitely kept themselves busy last night. 

It was still dark in the bedroom, and Eames came in wearing a towel, walking at a leisurely pace. Coffee’s ready, Arthur, he said in his smoky voice, and changed into his boxers. Come on, then, up you get. He shuffled out of the room as Arthur stretched. Arthur got up, found a robe, and brushed his teeth.

Eames was leaning his hip on the kitchen counter, sipping his tea. He smiled at Arthur, flushed with the heat of his shower, and shifted forward slightly to meet Arthur’s kiss.

Sleep well? 

Eames nodded. Arthur took his cup of coffee and sat at the table. 

I’ll make an omelette in a bit. C’mere, sit, he said, and gestured to the empty chair beside him.

No, I’m fine, Eames said, shaking his head. Arthur shrugged, and downed some coffee, closing his eyes as he felt his awakened self settling properly into place, his headache fading away.

He got up to start making the omelette. Eames remained standing, watching him, occasionally passing him things when asked.

Arthur divided the omelette into two and put the plates on the table. He sat, and Eames sat down slowly, gingerly. Arthur watched him; Eames didn’t meet his gaze.

Eames.

Yes, Arthur.

Eames looked down at his food, and started eating, calm.

Are you sore?

Eames’ ears turned pink. I’m fine, he said. He still didn’t look at Arthur.

Tell me.

Eames kept eating. He took a sip of tea.

Eames.

Eames cleared his throat. I’m fine, Arthur.

You’re not fine. You can tell me, you know.

I am fine, Eames insisted. I’m just… a little sore. All right? I’m not so young as I used to be, and on top of that you’re -- well. You know.

Arthur grinned, and put his hand on Eames’ arm.

Arthur, don’t be smug, you’ll make me cross.

Arthur smothered his grin. I’m not smug, he said, hooking his ankle behind Eames’. It’s fine. We’ll take it easy, we wore each other out. C’mere. He stood up a bit and kissed Eames, who relented slightly, tilting up to meet it.

Let’s go back to bed, Arthur said. I’ll give you a massage.

Not that kind of --

I know. I’m gonna give you a massage anyway.

\-------

Eames lay facedown on the bed, head on his folded arms, naked. Arthur slicked up his hands with oil and started to slide his palms along Eames’ muscles, feeling every little shiver and quake as he worked him over, fingers digging in. Eames groaned, going loose-limbed, seemingly ready to doze off under Arthur’s attentions.

Arthur dropped light kisses in a trail down Eames’ back, palms on his ass, gently opening him, slow. Ah -- Eames said. 

Arthur kissed the base of his spine. You good?

He waited. Yes, Eames replied, muffled. Yes.

Arthur’s tongue slid against his hole, gently lapping. He teased him with the flat of it, licking broad strokes. Eames shook, thighs spreading wider, hips arching up and back.

That’s it, Arthur murmured.

Arthur, it -- Eames stopped himself, and moaned. 

I know, Arthur soothed, and licked into him, wet tongue massaging the burn away. Eames shifted to get his hand on his cock, his other hand fumbling to cover Arthur’s on his hip. Eames squirmed, spreading his legs wider.

Arthur, Arthur.

He was stroking himself in tight, quick passes, close now, panting. Arthur licked long and slow, deep and thorough. Eames came, shaking, moans muffled in the bed. He took some moments to catch his breath.

I think, he said at last, that I might be almost as lucky as you are. He squeezed Arthur’s hand.

Arthur chuckled softly. Yeah. You might be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Liz and Bára for reading this over!


End file.
